The Power Of A Shipper
by Idiot Jello
Summary: The Doctor was in her bed, which surprised her, in the very least. Not your average reunion fic. T to be safe. TITLE REVEALED
1. Of Doctors and Bedrooms

It had happened when she was about ten years old, and she had hated it then with every molecule of her being —just like every other new aspect of 'becoming a woman.' The fact that she could sleep twelve hours, waste _half_ of an entire day doing nothing productive, it simply disgusted her. But as her teenaged years wore on, Rose Tyler no longer detested sleep—she received it with wide arms. Sleep was heaven, an escape from an otherwise monotonous and meaningless life.

Then came the Doctor, and Rose only saw sleep as frustrating but necessary hours away from him, and her life of raw adventure. When that life left, sleep was unpredictable. Some nights it was barely adequate sanctuary from painful reality, but most nights it only haunted her with images, memories of a past life she could no longer have.

So that one morning when Rose was trapped in that state of complete and deliciously useless dozing, that morning where her slumber had been purely euphoric, a bliss she hadn't experienced before while sleeping. As soon as her semi-consciousness realized this, she was wide-awake, as though that dawning had come with the power of seven cups of coffee.

She was happy. Sleeping. Within that conclusion came another one: this fact was different from usual, and like most humans, Rose then declared this newfound happiness to be wrong.

Rose gradually became aware of where she was; not in her own bed, that is, her bed in her parent's mansion, but in her bed in that flat that she had shared with her mother in the other universe; her universe. This reinforced that something was wrong—sure, it was her universe, but Rose was sure that she had been stuck in the universe where Zeppelins were in the sky and her dad was alive. That she couldn't go back. That she was forever separated from the Doctor.

The thought of him, instead of the usual heartbreaking ache, brought the awareness of a warmness on her arm. Her head jerked to look at it, finding the warmness to be a hand, a hand attached to an arm, and the owner of the arm to be a pair of very confused brown eyes. She knew those eyes.

The Doctor was in her bed, which surprised her, in the very least.

0000

If the he loved anything in the infinite strands of time that he existed in, it would have to be irony. The kind of irony that made him laugh out loud and point his finger at in delight. Right now, however, the Doctor was the subject of such irony, and he found it rather frustrating.

For example, the very human girl he had longed to be with for God knew _how_ many months had finally, by some twist of the dimensions, turned up in his life again—albeit in a way he would have never imagined—and now she had locked him out of her bedroom.

Damn.

"Rose, you're being ridiculous," he called to her through the door, "I'm real. This is real. It's all real." As an afterthought, "Please open the door."

In response, a muffled version of her voice yelled, "No! It can't be. It's a bloody dream, a stupid fantasy! I'm going to wake up any time now!" The Doctor sighed, but then halted the action when he heard more of Rose's mute voice. "And when I wake up, I'll be alone."

Her words provoked a searing ache through his chest, like the one he had first had when he could no longer see that beach and her teary face, but the dim light of the TARDIS. Making a sound in the back of his throat, he looked down to compose himself.

If Rose thought he wasn't real, then fine. Sometime she would come around, and right now the Doctor had more important matters to occupy his thoughts with. Turning so his back was against her door, he began to slide to the floor while he thought.

First of all, why was she here? He was sure, absolutely sure, that there was no way to connect the two universes, only small, infrequent windows of opportunity that were very, incredibly scarce. He had thought he had used the last one to say goodbye. But yet, here she was again, though a bit like her mother in the state of hysteria she was in at the moment.

Obviously, Rose hadn't connected the two worlds, and he couldn't possibly have either—that last thing he remembered was falling into one of his rare naps in the library. Thus, someone else did, someone, whose power over the vortex was greater than his—a Time Lord's.

The thought was bewildering, a bit scary, but intrigued his natural curiosity all the same. "Huh," he mused to himself, and promptly fell backwards.

"What do you mean, 'huh'?" demanded Rose, her head above his. She had opened the door.

Exhaling swiftly, he sat up and boosted himself up onto his feet to look at her. "You, miss, are far too nosy."

She rolled her eyes. "I know you, Doctor,"—he swallowed—"you've discovered something, and I want to know about it." Her hazel eyes stared back at him with familiar determination.

"We-el," he pretended to ponder, "I thought this wasn't real." He tried to glare her as if he had been severely hurt, but his smile betrayed him. Like an infectious disease, Rose smiled too. That one moment, as they stared at each other smiling, it felt so good, so completely _right_, that in a fraction of an instant both were reminded of all the other moments that they saw the other smiling.

Without a second thought from either party Rose was in his arms, both grinning like mad and hugging each other with all their strength.

"I missed you," he could feel her whisper into his shoulder. Her words made him smile even wider, and he replied with a simple:

"So did I."

And it was enough for both of them, at least for a while.

* * *

**A/N: Hello all, second Doctor Who fic here. Yes, reunion fic, but I hope it's somewhat original. The ending of the title actually gives away the story, so for the time being, this fic is called 'The Power of A -------'**

**Enjoy, and review please. You can even just type a little '=)' or a '=(' **

Idiot Jello


	2. Of Chips and TARDISes

Rose had done some downright stupid things in her life time, but opening the door of her old refrigerator whose contents had been sitting there for at least two years had to be the stupidest to date.

"Ew, oh—God!" She exclaimed, scrunching her nose up and slamming the refrigerator door. Her hands flew up to her nose. "Yuck, yuck, yuck!" Sinking down to the floor, she continued to whimper and hold her nose as if it had been severely wounded.

The Doctor poked his head through the kitchen doorway. "How's breakfast going?"

Rose shot him a dirty look, and then pointed at the offending refrigerator accusingly. "That—that _thin'_ is evil!"

He smirked, shoulders shaking. "Not very domestic, are we? Not three minutes in the kitchen and you're already accusing the appliances as self-aware evil beings. Tut-tut, Rose."

She glared at him, "Oh, and you're one to talk, Mister A-Proper-House-With-_Doors_-And-_Carpets_!" Her quote from that time ago made not only the Doctor, but inadvertently her as well, her tongue poking out between her teeth.

The Doctor broke the moment, asking, "So, would you like me to dispose of the 'evil' in the 'fridge?"

Rose's eyes widened in genuine horror. "No, ya can't!" Leaping to her feet, arms outstretched in warning, "It might…_eat_ you."

He raised an eyebrow. Mockingly, "What? Has the cheese decided to avenge all his long-lost brothers—by turning the tables?" Rose made no reply, a somber expression gracing her features. "It can't be _that_ bad," said the Doctor, though a bit uncertainly. Moving towards the appliance, he grabbed the handle and pulled it open. As soon as the door was open it was closed, and the Doctor spun around to look at Rose.

"Who wants chips?" He grinned her favorite manic grin.

0000

Rose grimaced as she attempted to pat down her rather balloon-like pink top. It had been from her high school years, and she had been a lot…heavier back then. She was a twig compared to her figure back then, and she looked absolutely ridiculous in these old clothes. The Doctor, poor him, was wearing another of the infamous Howard's jim-jams, but he _still_ appeared more dignified than her. Really, she would kill to find out his secret of looking so damn handsome all the time.

Declaring her top a helpless cause, Rose went back to eating the fries she had bought her and the Doctor with some pocket money she had found on her dresser. "Mmm," Rose gurgled appreciatively, swallowing, "This is much better than alive monster cheese-stuffs in the 'fridge. Do you know how long it's been since I've had good chips? The stuff on the other world is _rubbish_, lemme tell you!"

She looked up to share a smile with him, but he had a pained look on his face. Comprehension dawned, and Rose interrupted him before he could apologize. "No, Doctor, it wasn't tha' bad. Don't go blamin' yourself."

"But—" he protested guiltily, his eyes wide and distracted.

Rose leaned over the table, poking his nose with her pinky—the only finger that had yet to be contaminated by grease. "Don't," she said sternly, and then smiled.

He smiled too, but it was weak. Rose exhaled quietly. Obviously, he was in one of those 'I'm an evil monster' moods and he was going to act all guilty for at least another hour. This wasn't going to be fun at all—she just was glad she had her Doctor back.

"Rose, I can't _begin_—"

"Then don't," she told him simply, before popping another chip into her mouth.

"But I need to tell you," he said seriously, his eyes never leaving hers, "How _sorry_ I am—"

"Then just say, 'I'm sorry, Rose,' and be done wi' it. I don't want to dawdle on this whole 'I'm a tortured, horrible Time Lord' act of yours," she told him decisively.

"I'm sorry, Rose."

"Apology accepted, Doctor," a smile with her tongue poking out. His returning smile was stronger this time. "So, what d'you think?"

"About what?"

"The obvious, silly," she rolled her eyes, "Wha' d'you think about our reunion—how it can be possible and stuff like that."

He then explained the conclusions he had made earlier.

"A power over the Vortex greater than yours?" Rose's exclamation held all the surprise the Doctor felt when he first thought of the possibility.

"Yes, whoever has done this must have the ability to manipulate the Vortex in a way than any Time Lord has done—think of it! They must be truly powerful creatures. I hope I get to meet them…" He trailed off in reverie. Rose smiled again—she couldn't seem to stop lately.

The Doctor sighed, and looked up back at her. "There is only one thing—well, two—that I regret about this situation."

"And that would be?"

He huffed, pouting, "I don't have my sonic screwdriver, nor the parts to make one!" Rolling his eyes in exasperation, "and the TARDIS, while I can still vaguely feel her in the back of my head, I can tell that she's not very close."

Rose placed her hand over his, and he encircled it with his hand in welcome. "I'm sorry." He sighed. Biting the inside of her cheek, she offered, "D'you want to go find her?"

Another smiled spread across his face. He had missed this—Martha had never really known what to say, never really completely understood him like Rose had. Of course he wanted to find the TARDIS. And that was how Rose ended up in a mess of a room that had once been her mum's kitchen.

"So, let's jus' get this clear—you took parts from the dishwasher, the oven, and the microwave and made…what?" Rose asked, eyeing the skinny form of the Doctor that sat on the tile, who was presently tinkering with something that looked an awful lot like the temperature knob on her oven and another part that she had seen him take out of the back of the microwave.

"A scanner for alien tech." He told her absently. "And making, not made. I still need something to reverse the polarity."

"Finally!" Rose exclaimed, startling him, "Some Spock!"

The Doctor sniffed at her and went back to his tinkering. "Well, my usually system would not work in this situation. I can't just go around and look for a blue box. Not with this level, well, lack of telepathy between the TARDIS and me. This," he flicked the end of the device in his hand, "will search the area around us for extraterrestrial technology with a radius of, er…twelve feet?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Nice. Any way to boost that distance up a bit?"

"That's what I'm working on." Frustrated, he dealt the device a rather heavy blow. Nothing seemed to change.

"I don't think that does anything, Doctor," commented Rose from her seat on the kitchen countertop.

"It's the soda machine principle," the Doctor said absently as he _bopped_ it again, "It you hit it hard enough something will rattle about and make it work."

"Is _that _your super-scientific theory, then?"

"Well I bet it's better than any theory _you _could come up with. That was rude, wasn't it?" He flashed her a smile.

"A bit," she said, and bit her lip to restrain another smile. She was always _smiling_ since the Doctor appeared in her bedroom. Rose was only too aware of the effect the Doctor had on her happiness but really—was she always raving, smiling lunatic whenever he was around?

Apparently, for the thought had provoked yet another smile to tease her lips.

Right then, a huge puff of golden smokes erupted from the device in the Doctor's hands. Burrowing her face in her elbow, Rose coughed and waited until the smoke dissipated.

"Awh!!" The Doctor practically screamed, and the foreign words which came out his mouth following—Gallifreyan, probably—he said likes expletives. Again, they probably were.

"What happened?" Rose hopped off the counter and crouched beside him.

"It…exploded," was the Doctor's explanation.

"Oh, I got tha'," said Rose with a chuckle. Looking up, she then placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him. "Doctor. How is that possible?"

The Doctor's gazed drifted upward.

POLICE PUBLIC-CALL BOX glowed familiarly at the top of a big, blue box.

"What?"

* * *

_A/N: See that green button below this sentence a bit that says 'Review'? Click on it. See what it does. :D_


	3. Of Glimpses and Girls

The Doctor stood up cautiously, his eyes fixated on the Public Police Box from the 1950's that may or may not be a time traveling spaceship. "Is that you, girl?" he murmured, placing a hand on the wooden exterior. Immediately, he felt a familiar hum in his head. The Doctor's face lit up with delight and let out a little whoop.

"Rose!" he practically sang, "It's the TARDIS! It's really the TARDIS—but how can that be? Because she didn't materialize here, no, no, no, no! She _appeared_, which is a much more suspicious action," a pause, "Well, it seems like the only way to find the sense out of this mess is to go inside, so…shall we?"

He opened the doors, tensing for something dramatic to happen that might explain the TARDIS's sudden arrival in Rose's kitchen. However, the doors revealed nothing but the familiar interior of the ship. Entering his beloved ship, he stroked a coral pillar as she spoke to him.

_I don't suppose _you _know what's happened, _was the TARDIS's greeting.

_**Nope, not the foggiest**_, quipped the Doctor, walking over to the console. _**What about you?**_

The TARDIS hummed a rather unladylike snort. _Fat lot of good you are. And you call yourself a Time Lord! How could you not notice the tears? Someone's mucking about in the threads of time, and their not doing a very good job at repairing the damage. All of time and space is in shreds, and you didn't even notice, _Time Lord_! _

The Doctor sighed. The TARDIS was in one of her 'moods.' _**That's not good**_, he commented absently as he analyzed the data on the console monitor.

The TARDIS snorted again. _Thank you, Captain Obvious._

"Doctor? What's going on?"

He looked up from the monitor upon hearing Rose's words. "The TARDIS doesn't know what's going on,"--the very spaceship in question buzzed indignantly—"Well, she knows that someone, probably that 'someone' that we were talking about earlier, is messing around with time and space. Whatever it is, it's not cleaning up afterwards, leaving multiple tears in reality. Somehow, we both slipped through exactly the right tears to have us end up in bed in this universe. So now all we have to do is find the person who's doing all of this."

"And how do we do that?"

"Er, dunno," the Doctor said cheerfully, "How much do you wanna bet that the answer will just appear in front of us?"

Rose frowned from her seat on the 'Captain's chair.' "Why do think that?"

The Doctor began to stroll around the console in a deceptively casual air. Rose could tell he was worried about all the damage. "Look around Rose! Haven't you noticed that everything around here is just so _convenient_? Like somebody's controlling our lives and fulfilling our every wish. For example, I _really _want some marmalade right now. And look," --a jar of marmalade appeared in his outstretched hand—"presto!" Returning to the seat, the Doctor leaned in close to her and whispered conspiratorially: "I'm actually glad that worked. Just going out on a limb there, y'know. I would've looked really daft if nothing happened at all.

"So!" he began again, and Rose could see the wheels in his head processing this new information, "We can now assume that we can wish for anything in the world, and get it. And right now, I would really like to know who's behind all of this. Wouldn't you, Rose?" The Doctor grinned at her, and she grinned back, and not an instant later than a blonde girl of about fourteen materialized right inside the doorway of the TARDIS.

The Doctor straightened up and addressed the girl. "Who're you, then?"

The girl spun around on the balls of her feet to stare at them with, wide disbelieving green eyes. "What? You're—but you can't be!" Despite her own words, the girl took a few steps forward to further examine the Doctor and Rose. "You can't be," she said again, "I'm dreaming. Yeah, I'm dreaming. This is a dream. I'm dreaming," she repeated, over and over, like it a desperate attempt to retain her grasp on reality. "I _must_ be dreaming…"

Rose approached the dazzled girl, reaching out to comfort her. "Why would you think that? It's okay, we're real and all that." She placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and gasped.

* * *

The blue box dematerialized without warning, and the blonde girl who had been leaning against it stumbled as the support for her back dissolved into the air. With the police box's departure, her grief became overwhelming, and she hung her head in her hands as she slid to the dusty ground.

Her best friend was going to die, and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

Bad Wolf watched from afar, and shook her head sadly. Things had not gone as planned.

* * *

The blonde's gaze fixated on their joined hands, and then drifted upward to meet his eyes. His eyes weren't like normal eyes. Apparently, Time Lords eyes were similar to ogres: they had many, many layers; like an onion. Every emotion was a layer, and had to keep peeling and peeling before you could even begin to decipher what they were feeling. When she had first met him, she could only see enthusiasm and sarcasm. Then as she drew closer to him, she saw that the last layers of the onion. Grief, pain, heartbreak. Sometimes even affection, for her.

Now, she could see sadness, because they both knew that they were stuck this time. They couldn't run. The TARDIS was gone, abducted by some evil alien species that looked like a cross between a llama and a petunia, leaving them stranded on a beach in Norway.

They had never done domestic very well.

* * *

She floated almost gracefully downward into the brightness, and in an instant he knew what he had to do. So he let go the bar as well, to save her even though she couldn't be saved. Pete appeared and disappeared with one Time Lord and a human in his arms.

* * *

"I want to go back!" She screamed at him, tears flowing freely from her eyes. "I want to go _back_! Take me home!"

Reinette watched as her Lonely Angel's heart broke when another woman rejected him.

"Okay," he swallowed the truth, and pulled the lever that sent them hurtling through time and space.

* * *

Sarah Jane set down her suitcase and surveyed her new room in the TARDIS.

* * *

Mickey shook as the electricity overwhelmed him, falling off the fence. Rickey watched in horror.

* * *

"Imagine watching that happen to someone you love."

* * *

Martha had worked in the shop before the hospital, where she had met a strange man with a Northern Accent who told her to run.

* * *

Pete hugged the sidewalk in 1987, and that car never hit him.

* * *

He forgot to mention that it traveled in time.

* * *

The disintegrator beam on the Gamestation _is_ an actual disintegrator beam.

* * *

Margaret Blain decided to not take that short cute, and avoided a rather nasty encounter with one particular Blon Fel-Fotch Pasameer-Day Slitheen. She would never meet—or, not meet--another alien in her life.

* * *

Donna Noble got married, not once thinking about being teleported into a Time Lord's TARDIS.

* * *

Jack Harkness managed to duck into level 500 and would die only once.

* * *

"And if it's my last chance to say it, Rose Tyler, I love you."

* * *

Glimpses. Possibilities. Rose knew that none of them ever happened, even though she could see them as clear as memories before her eyes.

She knew who the girl was.

* * *

**A/N:** This is short, because I wanted a cliffie. Reviews are love as always. **Please check out the poll on my profile. **Anyone who wants to write a fic based on the 'glimpes' I thought of is free to do so. They were fun to write. =) For clarification, _Italics_ are the TARDIS's mental speech. **_Bold italics_** are the Doctor's

Idiot Jello


	4. Of Moles and David Tennant

"We're not real." The words slipped through Rose's lips in a surprisingly calm whisper.

The Doctor stared at her. "Oh, not you too, Rose! C'mon, we're real. We're as real as real can be real!"

Rose jerked her head distractedly in his direction. "Yeah, I know we're real, in _this_ universe, but to her," she waved a hand at the girl, "we're two characters on a _television show_ on BBC One!" He could only stare. She continued, "In her world, we are fictional people. She knows _everything_ about her loves. And somehow, she can manipulate it. She has the power to bend _time_ _and space_ to conjure up twists in our life. But they never really happen, since she's not on the BBC writer's staff. But—but, they looked so _real_…"

It was the girl, not the Doctor, who spoke next: "How'd you get inside my head? You're not telepathic. I mean, not in canon."

"What d'you mean, 'in canon?'"

She rolled her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Aw, come on Doctor. Even if I'm going crazy and this is a hallucination, I'd thought you'd be a bit more clever. I mean, you always knew what was going on before anyone else in the show."

The Doctor's brow narrowed as his gazed shifted to the girl. Rose could tell that he was extremely annoyed—not necessarily at the girl, but the fact that she pointed out: that he did not know what was going on. Rose knew that he would say that his annoyance was because he was so worried, universe tears and all that, but she was sure that he also just didn't like to be outsmarted by anyone.

"Well, I _don't_ know, so please tell me."

"Fan fiction!" the girl shouted, grinning like a madwoman. "I write fan fiction! It's not real to Rose because _it never happened in the show_!" She placed her hands on her hips, her smile stretching from ear to ear, rather proud that she had figured something out all by herself.

"So—I'm telepathic? But I'm not telepathic!"

"No, you're not," agreed the Doctor, leaning over the console, "Something's gone wrong. Something bad has happened, and made fan fiction into reality. The fact that I ended up in your bed—"

"Wait? You landed in her _bed_?" asked the girl excitedly. "I wrote that! That's me! And Rose being telepathic, I wrote that too."

"Of course it's you. That's why you came here after I asked to see the reason of all this. Problem is that when this fan fiction is becoming real, it's opening new universes, destroying others…it's tearing time and space apart. But it was never supposed to be like this."

Rose approached the Doctor. "But we can stop it, right?" She looked unsure. "We can always stop it."

The Doctor refused to meet her gaze. The force that had reunited him with Rose was also destroying reality. More than likely, if he stopped this, Rose would be transported back into her universe with no memory of any of this. Neither would he. They would be separated again. He met her hazel eyes, and felt the pang in his chest as something cracked.

* * *

Wanda Lewandowski was a temp, a temporary worker. Even so, she found something very strange in the Fan Fiction server. The strange something flashed the message: Bad Wolf Corp.

Alarmed, she stood up from her workspace and moved out of her cubicle to go report this to Heather, her boss. She didn't take three steps before a blinding, golden glow consumed her. Bad Wolf Corp. flashed on her computer screen.

Out of the golden mist, someone's slightly gilded lips smiled.

* * *

"I can stop it," the Doctor said eventually, "But everything would go back."

Everything went silent. Even the TARDIS no longer hummed reassuringly in the back of their heads. The girl, who seemed to find comfort in babbling to fill in the painful quiet, said: "Because this isn't canon. It's not real in this universe, so if you fix it everything would go back to normal."

"Exactly," confirmed the Doctor.

Both of their eyes strayed to Rose, who was looking down, and smiling. But her smile wasn't like the deliriously happy ones that she had recently been smiling: it was one of hopelessness, of acceptance. "I guess you'd better be off and 'fix it', then." Her smile erupted into a bitter laugh.

"Rose…" he began.

"Don't, Doctor," she said, not looking a him, "Just do it."

The Doctor set coordinates and pulled the lever with a solemnity he hadn't felt in a while.

* * *

Wanda woke up to a shrill, distinct _whirring_. Besides this, she was only aware of two other truths: one, she was on the floor, and two, her head hurt like _hell_. As she opened her eyes, wincing and rubbing her forehead, she observed that the floor that she had been on was her own office floor. Though this fact was bizarre, even more bizarre was that a big blue box that looked a lot like the TARDIS was in her cubicle. With all of this wonderful evidence Wanda came to a conclusion: she was dreaming.

But then the doors of the nineteen-sixties police box began to open, and brown pinstriped figure with a mop of brown hair stepped out.

Wanda placed a hand over her heart. "Oh my god," she exclaimed, "It's bloody David Tennant!"

The man's brow wrinkled. "David Tennant? Hmm. David Tennant. That's a good name, I s'pose. I rather like John Smith better."

A blonde followed him, looking rather grave but an infectious excitement beginning to sparkle in her pupils. "David Tennant, eh? That is a good name for you. You look like a David Tennant."

He raised a brow. "I do? What, when you first saw me in the TARDIS you went: "Ooh, that's David Tennant?"

She rolled her eyes and quipped sarcastically, "No, I went: "Ooh! There's a strange man wearing my best friends clothes who talks about a mole between his shoulder blades!"

The man grinned at the mentioning of said mole. "Oh yup, me and the Mole, we're good friends you know. Don't look so bitter, Rose. We all know you're jealous of our relationship, but cheer up, girl!"

The woman Wanda knew as Billie Piper burst into giggles. "Okay, are you _actually_ implying that the mole between your shoulder blades and you are in a romantic relationship?"

"Er…yes?"

The blonde laughed even harder, and the mop-haired man turned to Wanda, outstretching a hand. She took it, hoisting herself up. "Hello there, I'm the Doctor. Though I suppose you know that, right? Or do you not watch telly? Gina told me that our show was pretty popular, but you know youngsters. Always exaggerating and lying and doing all sorts of wicked sinny sins."

"Uh, I'm Wanda. Are you shooting or something?"

"Nope! This is all real. Aren't you lucky? Meeting the real Doctor and all. Nobody else in this world—well, Gina—has met the _real_ Doctor. All you've seen is David Tennant. And sure, he might be good looking and all but he's not _me_!"

"Ego, Doctor," the blonde—Rose?--reminded him.

Wanda stared at the two incredulously. "What the hell are you on about? What d'you mean, 'the _real_ Doctor?' You're a bloody character in a T.V. show!"

The Doctor smiled. "'Course I am. Now if you don't mind, why is Bad Wolf flashing on your screen there?" He pointed to her computer screen, which was shining gold light.

Wanda turned instinctively toward her computer, simultaneously hearing a gasp form behind her. Spinning back around, she saw a young girl, presumably Gina.

"Bad Wolf," said Gina, "But that means--"

"I'm doing this," said Rose, quietly, "It's me."

Everything faded to black as she fell to the ground, but only for a second as the light came.

* * *

Now, in most television shows and movies that Rose had seen, your mind was a random place in the middle of nowhere with mist and fog all about. Rose was sure that in reality, this wasn't true—humans couldn't be so smart if there was fog all the time in their heads. However, in the state of Rose's unconsciousness, she could control her surroundings to whatever she wanted them to be. It was her mind, after all.

So it was misty, so misty that she couldn't see anything save for the huge golden wolf. Bad Wolf.

"Why?" Rose asked herself.

"I wanted us to be happy," said Bad Wolf, though Rose didn't exactly hear the words. Rather, they appeared in her head. "We are so miserable in Pete's World. We can only be happy with the Doctor. That's why you created me on Satellite Five, and it's why I will bring you back to him now."

"You're destroying all of time," Rose informed the wolf, scathingly. "I could've found a way back to him that wasn't _dangerous_ to all reality!"

Bad Wolf tossed back her head and let out a guttural howl; a laugh. "No, you would suffer for a long, long time to try to make it safe. And then you would grow too sad and they you'd do exactly what I'm doing, only less effective because you don't have the power I do. I can see all of time and space! _You_," she addressed herself condescendingly, "you are the weaker half of me."

Rose felt bile rise in her throat like it had done when the Dalek's blue eyestalks had stared her down emotionlessly. "No!" she shouted, "I am not weak. I am strong. I both create conquer myself! I see you, the Bad Wolf." She laughed throatily. "You think you're so tough! You're not. It's all me! You can't be you without me! Oh, you may be strong, but I am stronger still. I can defeat you, become you but rule over you so you can't hurt anything else again!" Rose was smiling widely now, her victory in sight. "I can become more than the Bad Wolf, and heal everything! I can save the universes, all of them!"

Without an instant of hesitation her palm cut through the mist with the glow of time, and the light grew until it blinded both wolf and human.

Through the light came the voices.

"…ter…wrong with her?"

"…separating…oh…God…dying."

"…light…glowing?"

"….Bad Wolf…"

Rose opened her eyes, no longer a hazel color, but a brilliant gradient of gold and lime green. She rose from the floor, and Gina and Wanda and the Doctor rose from their crouching positions beside her. Light was all around.

"You are not the Bad Wolf," said the Doctor, "Who are you?"

She smiled. "You know, I never learned how to sew. Jackie tried to teach me, wanted me to become a proper wife to some bloke or somethin', but I never got the hang of it. But it's so _easy_…"

Then everything disappeared, because it never happened.

* * *

Rose wondered what had possessed her to get drunk on a Sunday night. How stupid could she get? Now her head hurt too much to think about and she had an eight o' clock meeting with Torchwood executives. Fan-bloody-tastic.

Exhaling and then wincing at the pain in her head from the action, Rose gingerly got up from her bed and tip-toed to her adjoining bathroom. She had never had her own bathroom before living in Pete's world. Even the TARDIS had only one bathroom.

As Rose moved toward the toilet, she saw a flash of green reflect in the mirror that was in her peripheral vision. She slowed, taking a backward step and looked at her reflection directly.

She remembered everything. Chips. Balloon shirts. Fan fiction. Her defeating Bad Wolf. It never happened, her memories weren't actually memories but just vague images. And yet she remembered them. That didn't make sense.

And then, hoping against hope, Rose listened for the sound of the TARDIS engines. Nothing came. It would have, she knew, before, because with all that tearing she could just wish for something and pluck it out of all the millions of fan fiction pieces and have it happen.

But now the universes were healthy, and Rose was alone.

Bad Wolf watched on, her heart aching, but she would do nothing. She had learned her lesson.

* * *

The Doctor, being a Time Lord, remembered a long while before Rose. He said nothing to the TARDIS, said nothing to himself. He tried not to think about anything, so he couldn't think about the painful thoughts. However, Time Lords naturally think all the time, so naturally, the Doctor thought about everything anyway.

He almost wished he had never appeared in her bed, so he wouldn't have had to see her again, and be reminded again of what he was missing. The Doctor knew exactly what he was missing. The big, Rose Tyler-shaped hole in his being spoke for itself. Rose…

The sound of the TARDIS's motor startled him out of his morose reverie. Soon they landed, and curious of what the old girl wanted to show him, the Doctor stood up from the Captain's chair and peeked outside.

London was outside, only with the hum of zeppelins flying in the sky.

The Doctor retreated back into the TARDIS, not wanting to believe the scene outside his ship's doors.

_**Why did you bring me here?**_

_A gift,_ said the TARDIS, like traveling between universes was the most common gift in the world. And it wasn't even his birthday.

_**How?**_ asked the Doctor, incredulous.

The TARDIS sighed an old and ancient sigh. _Nothing everything, Doctor, needs to be explained for it to work. Not everything is logical._

_**But they all are. Everything has a scientific reason for it to happen.**_

_No,_ said the TARDIS, _some things just happen. I think you would know that better than anyone after this latest adventure of ours._

The Doctor listened to his ship's words, contemplated them. Then he purposefully strode towards the doors, throwing them open as he stepped from gloom to light.

* * *

**A/N:** Phew! Wow. I typed all of this TODAY! Aren't you proud of me? Well, I'm thinking is this the last chapter. What do you guys tihnk? Epilogue? If I do write one, it'll probably just be Ten/Rose fluff, or extra clarification on certain matters. Feel free to review if you have any questions, if you don't understand fully what went on.

So um...REVIEW and yeah.

Epilogue or no?

Idiot Jello


	5. Epilogue: Of Saturdays and Endings

**Epilogue**

Gina awoke on her bed, only aware of the sunlight filtering through her white lacy curtains.

The fact that it was Saturday was obvious: the very aura of laziness was intense in every molecule of the air. Gina sat up and moved off her bed, shifting into her desk chair. Clicking Internet Explorer open, Gina typed Fan Fiction's URL into the address bar. A few more clicks later, Gina was at Doctor Who's Fan Fiction page. Clicking one fic open, Gina read it hastily.

She shook her head at its content. It would never, not in a million years happen. It was too happy, too _fluffy_. The Doctor was all about eternal loneliness and sacrificing your happiness for the greater good. But no, that wasn't it at all. In all reality—if talking about a Doctor Who character could be reality—the Doctor enjoyed traveling, and never was in love with Rose. He never fell in love with anyone. He was too great, too big for such human emotions.

Gina half-sighed half-laughed at her musings. She really was obsessed, and she adored the Doctor/Rose pairing, the relationship only implied at to increaser viewers for a show on BBC One. The Doctor and Rose would never become a real couple, but they could find pseudo happiness in her imagination.

Only the power of a real shipper could unite one well-known Time Lord with a pink-and-yellow human.

* * *

Thousands of reunions, kisses, hugs, and declarations had flashed across the universes, mere creations by the real. Those events had not been real themselves. One single possibility, defying the laws of time, had remained after all the rest had fallen.

Rose opened the door of her parent's mansion and smiled at what she saw. After their lips parted, the Doctor whispered three, small little words into her ear. Not even four syllables did these words make, and yet they conveyed so much meaning.

Rose smiled once again, only the slightest hint of gold shining in the hazel depths of her eyes.

* * *

No story ever ends; rather, it spirals into another adventure. Each adventure merely a chapter if the whole tale. However, this chapter, this reunion that had never meant to happen, or maybe it had been, it's story has been told. And thus this is—

**The End.**

* * *

_**A/N:**_ Vote for my next fic now:

**DW + The Office Xover: **_Pam Beesly tapped out an email, the sound contributing to the relative humdrum silence of the office. But then before her, a distinct whirring pierced through all other noise, and a blue light cycled like a lighthouse as a blue police box materialized right in front of reception._

"_Dammit, Jim!"_

**Human!Doctor Continuation of JE:**_Bad Wolf Bay had to be the bleakest beach in this universe and then the proper one that both he and Rose had originally lived in. Sure, it had all the beach qualities that all the beaches had that made them unpleasant: wind, cold water, gray skies, wind. But this beach had theses…memories the Doctor wished that he could forget, and that was why he hated Bad Wolf Bay. He hated it with a passion, almost as much as he hated pears. But not quite._

I have not named these fics yet, obviously. Vote in your reviews, please, and thanks for everything.

Idiot Jello


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